


Tony's First Friend

by wakandan_wardog



Series: Mechanics, Millionaires, Models & More [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Background Relationships, Friendship, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I'm probably forgetting something, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Bruce Wayne, Kid Tony Stark, Minor Character(s), No Romance, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandan_wardog/pseuds/wakandan_wardog
Summary: Tony Stark gets dragged to a party when he's six years old, and hides under a table. Surprisingly enough, a young Bruce Wayne is already there, and the two become fast friends.





	1. Tablecloths and Straw Bales

Tony Stark is six years old when he meets Bruce Wayne. 

It happens, of course, at a Gala being hosted at Wayne Mansion. Thomas Wayne is a Doctor and a visionary, wanting vast improvements for the transportation and health care industries at work in his city. To that end he invites many local celebrities and officials, as well as a variety of industry tycoons that may be in a good enough mood to donate after an evening of drinking, gambling, and rubbing elbows with the various elite collected in Gotham. 

Howard Stark is an inventor, a genius, a scientist and a millionaire. He was not the sort of person that one would forget receiving an invite to such an event, though whether or not he would turn up was certainly another matter entirely. Then again, it was Thomas Wayne of Gotham. So turn up he had, for Wayne was not the sort of person one disregarded when he sent a handsomely embossed and gilded invitation to a soiree at his very own residence. 

To make the best possible impression, Maria too would attend, on Howard’s arm and shining like a star. Her dark hair was piled upon her head, pinned in place with glittering adornments, her shimmering gown a royal blue often associated with Stark Industries. It matched well with her husband’s dark blue suit, and even their son Anthony was suitably outfitted in a small tux of his own. His normally wild hair was carefully combed into order, face and hands clean, suit pristine, tie carefully knotted at his throat. 

Tony had protested the tie quietly for the majority of the car ride. Still, Howard had little patience for such a thing, and once the boy had received a cuff upside the head from his father, he’d resolved to be on his best behavior for the rest of the night. Hopefully they wouldn’t stay more than a few hours. At least among the family Howard’s good will was well-known for only lasting so long. No doubt he’d prefer to return to Stark Mansion and his laboratory earlier rather than later. 

With the hope that he’ll be home to Jarvis in time for a late night snack and a bedtime story, Tony smooths his jacket and ducks his head, refusing to meet his father’s gaze for the remainder of the car ride. 

_‘Behave yourself.’_ Howard had hissed before the limo door had opened. _‘Stay out of the way, and don’t get underfoot tonight.’_

When the car pulls to a halt it’s his father that exits first, extending a beckoning hand and helping Maria out a moment later. Tony follows as soon as the swish of Maria’s gown is out of the way, lifting his chin proudly when the flashbulbs go off. Questions are lobbed at all three of them, centered on Howard’s business deals with a few of them directed at Tony. 

He knows that his circuit board caused quite the media stir, and while his father had been proud in public, Howard had raged at him behind closed doors. While the motorcycle engine was coming along, Tony had been dragging his heels slightly as of late, afraid to earn his father’s ire once the project was complete. 

“Tony, anything new?” One interviewer cries, shoving a microphone in his face. 

“Now, now.” Howard grumbles, gripping his son possessively by the shoulder. “No use getting secrets out of him, he’s a Stark after all. If you want to see the latest you’ll just have to visit the Expo or keep your eye on the market! Don’t worry, there will be great things on the horizon from Stark Industries. Now if you’ll excuse us, we wouldn’t want to be late.” 

Tony tries to smile as his father clenches more firmly at his shoulder, obeying the insistent shove as his father propels him through the crowd and into the mansion. In that sense, walking through the gathering of press outside was no different than the Red Carpet out in California. Howard easily breezed through in favor of making nice with the press that were actually allowed inside the venue. Just inside the door he hauls Tony to a stop and tucks Maria closer to his side. They pose before a richly carpeted staircase, smiling as directed, and then are left to climb the stairs and enter the party on their own. 

When the double doors open on the ballroom, Howard turns Tony loose in favor of taking Maria’s arm in a possessive grip. With a sharp glare at his son, he leads her into the ballroom as people turn and approach in a shuffle of heels and a low murmur of welcome. There is no doubt their attentions will be in high demand tonight, however, with the efficient circling of wait staff they soon have drinks in hand and are happy to entertain their newfound audience. 

Tony, for his part, watches the group thoroughly circle his parents before he finds an opportune escape route. In no time at all he’s under a clothed table in the banquet hall, and nose to nose with another boy who seems to be his age. Tony blinks in surprise, mouth a small ‘o’ of shock, as he gazes at the boy curled around a supporting leg of the table. 

Tony’s suit is a darker shade of navy, his tie a dark garnet color that looks black in most lights. There’s a faint pattern of gold stars scattered over it, his mama had said the warm tones suited the brown and gold of his eyes. The boy across from him is all shades of blue, from his suit and tie to the piercing arctic eyes, and his cold demeanor. They’re both outliers, baby millionaires dressed in overly fancy suits as a gesture of power. The crowd outside their table-fort is much, much older, boisterous and unconcerned with the children in their midst beyond a condescending comment and the pinching of cheeks when they’re within reach. Tony is glad to leave them behind, glad of the shelter provided by the fine white table cloth. He won’t even begrudge his companion having found it first, it had been the nearest escape route and so long as they can share that’s good enough for him. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, waving at the other boy. “ ‘m Anthony… Anthony Stark.” 

The black haired boy cants his head to one side, arctic eyes glinting for a moment before he returns the wave. “Bruce Wayne. Anthony’s kind long, isn’t it?” 

The dark haired boy with the mahogany colored eyes nods, chewing at his lower lip. “Tony… I like to be called Tony.” 

Bruce nods, decisive, finding this much more acceptable. “Hi Tony.” 

Outside the protective curtain of the table cloth, their fathers are amongst the most powerful in the room, each clothed in expensive, tailored suits in the latest fashion. Silk ties and pocket squares. Expensive cufflinks, fine watches. Every other gentleman in the room attempts to emulate them, their suits less fine, and their blood not as blue, but constantly on the hunt for the slightest hint of weakness. Their women clothed in fine gowns, dripping in expensive gems, giving secretive smiles. They raise glasses of wine or champagne, toast their husband’s grand ideas, simper behind lipstick smiles and gloved hands. 

“Hi Bruce.” Tony smiles. “Don’t wanna be at the party?” 

“Eh…” Bruce mumbles. “Not really.” 

Tony nods, fingers idly tracing the floral pattern of the rug they’re sitting on. “Me neither.” 

Bruce watches the strange brunet boy for a moment, then lifts his chin defiantly. “Hey… Tony? You wanna get out of here?” 

Tony perks, inching forward. “Sure. Where?” 

“Anywhere but the ballroom is good to start.” Bruce mumbles, flushing as he tilts his chin and then grabs at a faint part in the tablecloth. When he pulls the fabric aside there’s a small gap between the table and wall, perfectly for two boys to crawl along. “We can go to the staff kitchen for hot chocolate, Alfred would make us some. Or to the upstairs library, if you wanted to read? The garage has a bunch of cars if you like to look at those, and there shouldn’t be anyone in the barn at this hour.” 

“You have a garage and a barn?” Tony whispers, entranced, and he begins to crawl along on his hands and knees. "My dad has a garage and the workshop, but I'm not allowed down there unless he's with me. I mostly work in the garage with Jarvis." 

“We have horses.” Bruce replies proudly. “I have a pony that’s all mine. Who's Jarvis?” 

“Our butler, but he's the best... You have horses? Can we go see?” Tony beams widely, excitement brightening his eyes. “I’ve never been around horses before.” 

“Sure, it’s not that late and she’ll be awake.” Bruce nods, decisively. “If we go to the kitchen first, we can get an apple for her. I bet Alfred, our butler, would give us a few. That would make her happy.” 

“Okay!” Tony agrees gamely. “Lead the way!” 

And that’s more or less how Tony Stark flees his first high society party on hands and knees, crawling into the Staff kitchen to stuff his pockets with carrots and apples before his accomplice grabs his hand. With a wide grin and his black hair falling into his eyes, Bruce Wayne pulls his new friend out the back door and into the dark, leading him giggling down a gravel path to a handsome redwood barn.


	2. Home Away From Home

It’s been half a year since Bruce Wayne met Tony Stark underneath the table at his father’s gala, but he thinks about the evening all the time. Since neither of the boys had especially wanted to attend, it had been Bruce’s plan that they sneak out the staff entrance, through the kitchen, and go visit the barn. Tony, for all that he was fond of electronics and inventions, had been all too happy to stuff the pockets of his fancy suit with treats and walk out into a dark stable to feed the horses. 

They’d spent nearly an hour there, lingering long after the treats had been distributed and each elegant muzzle had been thoroughly patted. Eventually they ended up curled up on bales of straw as inquisitive equine heads reached over the doors from time to time to whuffle at their hair. Tony had spent his time talking about moving back and forth between the California and New York estates, the circuit board he had built at four, and the engine he was currently working on. Every now and again a shadow would creep over him, or he’d jump at an unexpected noise, but as time stretched on he seemed to relax. 

For his part, Bruce had listened, entranced. Tony was so bright-eyed and excited, gesturing wildly about soldering this element to that on the circuit board, all the plans he had for it, how he one day wanted to make a computer that could fit in his pocket. How he wanted an entity within the computer that he could talk to all the time, because wouldn’t it be nice to not be lonely? 

His flights of fancy about the future were so joyous, so proud and sure, that it was like a different person took over when he mentioned the engine. His sudden stream of energy seemed to die off completely, folded away behind suddenly cautious eyes. 

Bruce sat up as Tony quieted down, frowning at the sudden worry in his friend’s warm brown eyes. “Tony?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away with it.” The young Stark murmured. “My father wouldn’t approve. And the engine isn’t anywhere near done yet, and all the rest of that stuff… It’s silly, and stupid… I didn’t mean to waste your time, I know it’s not worth mentioning.” 

“Tony.” Bruce muttered, frowning. “All the other stuff aside… It’s an _engine_. You’re building an engine for a motorcycle, and you’re six! No one I know can do that, and they’re all adults! I bet half the people in R &D at Wayne Tech wouldn’t know how to do that! It’s amazing!” 

“Don’t even know if it’ll run.” Tony murmured, flapping a hand to shoo away the thought. “Didn’t mean to waste your time with it, Bruce.” 

“You’re not.” Bruce declared, standing from his seat across the aisle and throwing himself down on the bale of hay next to his friend. “You’re not a waste of time, not a single minute. You’re my best friend! You came out to see Snowflake and you helped me feed all the horses and you’ve hung out with me all night instead of going back to that party. Of course I want to hear about the things you do for fun!” 

“Even if they don’t work?” Tony murmured, chewing at his lower lip as he watched Bruce’s ice-eyes darken. 

“Listen.” Bruce grumbled, poking his friend in the arm. “It _will_ work, because you’re Tony Stark. And _when_ it works, you’re going to call me and then turn it on, so I can hear it. Right?” 

Tony grinned, fending off another poke when he doesn’t answer fast enough. “Ok! Ok, but Bruce… What if it _doesn’t_ work?” 

Bruce signed, slumping against the stall door at their backs and pressing himself shoulder to shoulder with the other boy. “Then you’ll call me with your new blue print ideas, and talk them over until you figure it out, and you’ll hang up… and then you’ll call me in three days and shout about how right I was, _then_ you’ll rev the engine so I can hear it.” 

Smiling, Tony tilted his head until it rests on Bruce’s shoulder, and sighs. “Ok Brucie… Okay.” 

“Ok, Tony.” 

*

It’s been half a year, but Bruce has only heard from Tony twice. They’d traded phone numbers and addresses; had solemnly promised to stay in touch, but with the way Tony’s parents moved from California to New York they rarely had the chance to visit. The good thing was that Tony had kept his promise, had built his engine and even installed it in a motorcycle.

He’d called Bruce screaming in joy, setting the phone on a table so he could turn the cycle on and let the engine rumble in the background while they shouted about how cool it was. But Howard had interrupted at the sound of the engine’s rumbling, and Tony had only managed a mumbled “Hi Dad” before Bruce heard the line go dead. 

He hadn’t heard from his friend since, but Tony’s picture had turned up on the cover of Popular Mechanics. Astride the motorcycle he had built, but overshadowed by a smirking father, his best friend had looked a little different in casual clothes. Hair a mess, eyes slightly shadowed, and the distance between himself and his father a quietly noticeable thing. 

Bruce had read the article three times before putting the magazine away for safekeeping. Every now and then he tries to call his friend, but he’s usually met with the regretful tone of one member of the staff or the other. When it seems that the phone call is out of the question, he sits down and writes two copies of a letter, sending one to Malibu and one to New York. Hopefully one will reach his wayward friend. 

Tony calls Bruce on a sunny Saturday afternoon, spilling over himself as he tries to explain like advanced schooling and private education. When Bruce calms him down enough to understand more than one word in seven, he manages to work out that Howard is sending Tony to a private school in New York. 

“The best of the best, he says.” Tony mumbles, still sounding panicked. 

“Is not.” Bruce argues with a lazy grin. “Know why?” 

“Why?” 

“ **I** don’t go there.” Bruce retorts smugly. “So listen up Tony, this is what we’re gonna do.” 

In the space of an afternoon chat, Bruce Wayne unloads a plan to con Howard Stark into sending his son to the most prestigious boarding school on the Eastern Seaboard. It just so happens to be in Gotham City, and Bruce Wayne just so happens to need a roommate. 

It promises to be the best three years either of them have had yet. 

*

Tony Stark is seven when he decides he’ll probably never have a best friend as cool as Bruce Wayne. Not only has Bruce saved him from stupid formal events and called him regularly no matter what coast he was on, but he also helped him convince his father to send him to a boarding school where at least he has a friend waiting. On top of it all, during holidays it’s to Wayne Mansion that Tony goes, with his own room and a workshop-lab that he gets to share with Bruce. 

They sleep in and take trips to the city to watch movies, go on picnics on the west lawn, play tag through the house and the massive hedge garden. It Thomas and Martha are home they have what Tony always thought a real family dinner would be like. If they aren't the boys eat in the kitchen with Alfred and listen to his many stories. On clear-weather days Alfred gives the pair of them riding lessons, there are footmen that will drive them around in the carriage, or Alfred will bundle them into coats and take them to the city for lunch or sight-seeing in one of Mr. Wayne's fancy cars. 

It makes Tony's mandatory trips home to see his parents even more difficult, but it’s worth it because every time he climbs down the steps of the Stark Jet, Alfred and Bruce are waiting. Every time he throws himself forward, Bruce moves to the foot of the steps and catches him with a smile. “Welcome home, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a work in progress this was called "Bruce Wayne Worries".

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit of backstory on our boys, taking place way way way before Walk. But, some of the things that happen along the way in this series should explain why they're such good friends, so I hope you enjoy the read.


End file.
